


The Hero that never came (An unofficial companion piece to This Bites!)

by TheGleeman



Category: One Piece, This Bites!
Genre: F/M, Gen, Marine Corps, My First One Piece Fic, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), POV Original Character, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 06:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21070484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGleeman/pseuds/TheGleeman
Summary: For every epos praised by countless thousands, another tale dissolves into mere whispering across the Void. For each paragon, whose very words the masses imbibe, another Champion fades away, unloved and unsung. Such is the cruel fate of one Aloysius Ludovig Gleester – Mink, Marine and... The Hero that never came...(Note: This story takes place in the fan-universe of THIS BITES! written primarly by XOMNIAC)This story will also employ soundtrack in the form of YT-links to songs NONE OF WHICH I OWN, BUT ARE ULTIMATELY THE PROPERTY OF THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS





	1. Chapter 1 - Hänschen klein, ging allein

**https://** **www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eyo0cNjjmIE**

_ “Die See kennt den Anfang der Welt; _

_ weiß, wie´s um ihr End ist bestellt. _

_ Die See weiß genau, was geschieht _

_ und singt ihr ewiges Lied. _

_ Und wir werden sehen, dass der Weg, _

_ dem wir folgen unentwegt und stet, _

_ führt in eine schöne Welt; _

_ eine schöne und bessere Welt. _

_ Qual und Schmerz und Kummer und Leid, _

_ das alles wird auf ihm vereint; _

_ gütig und liebevoll rührt er _

_ allen Schmerz, alle Pein.” _

Plowing through the Paradisal waters between four prominent Marine strongholds, a lion-headed ship reached ever further towards its final destination. On deck, many of its crew partook in the usual hijinks: The first mate snoring away both time and worries in the crow's nest, the cook and his “volunteer” manning a grill while (at least in the head chef’s case) simultaneously swooning over the female as well as cursing the male crew members. Others tried fishing for grillables, while the navigator aimed to strangle the communications co-officers for some trivial matters. As for the captain and future prime contestant for the title of Pirate King, he perched atop his throne’s figurehead, while sporting the goofiest of smiles known to man.

All in all, nothing out of the ordinary, if not for one white-and-blue-clad wolf-like person sitting alone beneath a tangerine tree, whom no one of those hospitable seafarers paid any attention to. But why would they, who are known to be very friendly and welcoming, not acknowledge the existence and plight of somebody who’d surely like some company?

_ “Die See kennt den Anfang der Welt; _

_ weiß, wie´s um ihr End ist bestellt. _

_ Die See weiß genau, was geschieht _

_ und singt ihr ewiges Lied. _

_ Und bin ich einst nicht mehr da, _

_ muss ich einmal von dir geh'n, _

_ kennt sie die ewigen Pfade, _

_ weist sie dir deinen Weg. _

_ Fürchte dich nicht, du bist nicht allein, _

_ wir werden wieder zusammen sein… _

_ Jenseits des Horizonts warten _

_ die einstigen Kameraden.” _

There's the rub, unfortunately…

I  _ do not exist at all…  _ Haven't for a while now, actually.    
  
Then again, I think I am getting ahead of myself. So let me rewind a bit...

_ https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Jy0Q8Tw2Q1WSHm__lpcs-Y2eE5HuHLMuaFUsPef1En0/edit?usp=sharing _

**... --- .-.. .. - .- .-. -.-- / -- .- .-. .. -. . / ..- -. .. - / .---- ----. ---.. ----. / - --- / ... -.-. .. . -. - .. ..-. .. -.-. / -... .-. .- -. -.-. .... --..-- / .... --.-**

In actuality, the story of my service in the World Government’s most esteemed Marine Corps started about eleven years ago in the North Blue Kingdom of Purusia with the passing of my maternal grandfather...

**-.. --- / -.-- --- ..- / -.-. --- .--. -.-- ..--.. / .--. .-.. . .- ... . / .-. . ... .--. --- -. -.. -.-.-- / --- ...- . .-.**

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MJojXZCAgME

Slowly dwindling candles illuminated Opa Ludovig’s grapevine-filled chamber, with us both talking about what I wanted to do with my adult life.

“Once I've finished school, I wanna be like you,  _ Opa, _ ” I said, while slowly helping him into his trusty wheelchair.

He then chuckled a bit mirthlessly and looked at me with eyes that had seen too much. Gripping his old  _ Schnittersschippe _ -Scythe from his military days tighter, Grandpa spoke. 

“My goodness, Alisi, you´ve got your work cut out out for you there. When I think back to my times with the  _ Jägern _ , with all those Hunts, the Blood, and the horrible Dreams… Don't get me wrong: Serving the people can be truly uplifting. But you have to understand, that a good, a  _ true _ soldier is pacifistic by nature. Of course there are those saying, `There wouldn’t be any wars if nobody went to battle’, but in the end that's simple self-deception. Do you really think somebody like  _ the Germa _ would just turn back and leave should we not defend ourselves?”

A shudder ran down my back fur. The Roaming Empire of Germa had been the bane of our land for almost five hundred years in one form or another. Since the day King Charles of Allmaine died during an  _ unfortunate swimming accident _ and his wayward heir, Prince Ancel sat the throne, the descendants of those who defended his claim warred against anyone not wanting our good king’s legacy to be dirtied.

Even now, long after Charles’ grieving Guard became the founders of Purusia, our eternal enemies—long since called Germa—shied away from nothing to finally crush us all. Only a few years ago they did something called “The Four-Nation Coup” that my parents only talked about when  _ Mama und Papa _ thought I wasn’t listening. My mother’s horrified look back then still gave me nightmares sometimes.

Feeling  _ Opas _ calm, measured gaze, I looked up and hastily shook my head.

He responded in kind, breathing heavily. “Of course they  _ wouldn’t _ . They would take everything we hold dear like they have been doing since times immemorial. Because of those like them, those willing to give their very lives for others will seize the opportunity, despite wanting to just live in peace far from all horrors. If you  _ really  _ take this path, you have to remind yourself of that at all times. Too often I have seen mere boys, barely out of school, going out into the world, confident and full of eagerness… Most of them had to be carried home in  _ pine boxes _ to their families, who shed bitter tears for them. Not even a few of them being Fruit Users helped much… I hope you remember me telling you about the greatest pitfall of being an User?” he asked.

“Of course,  _ Opa Ludovig _ . You always used to say, that most Users die believing themselves to be invincible… Parca..  _ Paramecias, Zoans,  _ and especially  _ Logias _ start acting like they are gods because of their Powers and they could treat normal peoples like cattle, just to be killed by them for their folly… it's like that, right?”

He nodded, answering, “You paid good attention to my advice, Alisi. That was how I got my Powers too, after all.” Raising his free hand a bit, it started reforming into a thick crimson, copper-smelling liquid before becoming normal again.

“Back in the day, when I felled Ambrose the Depraved, losing my good friend Ser Dullahan  _ The Wandering Knight  _ in the process, I saw what atrocities this fruit is capable of and vowed to submit it wholly to the service to the people. But enough from those mournful days of old… I'll make you an offer: First you finish your education. Should you still be be aflame for my way of life, tell your mom of it and she´ll give you my old novice equipment. And if you ever find your blade wanting, just use your head… turn around three times all… around the clock and… you should discover the secret needed…”

Watering eyes shut tight, I lunged at Opa Ludovig and hugged him tightly, for the moment heedless of his Scythe clattering to the ground. “Thankyou-thankyou-thankyou,  _ Opa _ ! I won't disappoint you either, I promise. All you ever told me I will take to heart and once I am a Hero like that, you´ll be there too, okay?”

No response.

“ _ Opa _ ?” Now slightly worried, I opened my eyes again, only to see his still form, head tilted to the side with a proud, beatific smile on his face. Panic gripped my heart when I tried shaking him awake again. No, please not  _ that _ … We still had so much to do together, I needed him. “Please stay with me… I won't make it without you… I beg you…”

When my parents and  _ Oma _ Maria came looking for us a while later,  Papa had to pry mother and me gently, but firmly from the man that had given us so much for so long, while he left Grandma to deal with her loss alone.

**.. / .-. . .--. . .- - ---... / -- .- .-. .. -. . / -.-. --- -- -- --- -.. --- .-. . / --. .-.. . . ... - . .-. / .- .-.. --- -.-- ... .. ..- ... / .-.. ..- -.. --- ...- .. --. / - --- / -.. .-. .-.-.- / ...- . --. .- .--. ..- -. -.-**

The following four years I made good on my promise to Grandpa and strived to be the very best both in school and outside. Whether I ever succeeded in making him proud, I never dared asking while at his final resting place. And so, after lots of hard studying and work, I set out to become a hero who could protect this world.

**.-. . --.- ..- .. .-. . / .. -- -- . -.. .. .- - . / . ...- .- -.-. / ..-. .-. --- -- / .... --- ... - .. .-.. . / . -. ...- .. .-. --- -- . -. -**

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ovJU_X2Hzco ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ovJU_X2Hzco) https://docs.google.com/document/d/1b9REupx6MdXc2ZvZWS4Rkq0CFoi2DNglBgkiYvALG4M/edit?usp=sharing

On a calm and slightly cloudy September morning like so many before, my mother and I were making the last preparations for me to travel to Grien, capital of Purusia, in search for a career in the World Governments´ Marine Corps.

While my mom continued tugging and tutting at every bit of clothing even remotely out of place (Many times I had already tried in vain to protest against in the hopes of at least seeming dignified. Unfortunately that has always been hard to achieve as my sheep mom just reached to my collar with her head while the both of us are standing), I took the time to glance around the bedroom my brother and I shared, which I wouldn't be seeing again for quite some time.

On top of our currently non-fiery wood-stove to the doors´left, my mother had currently piled some of my brother’s old clothes she was in the process of sorting between our cupboards on the door’s other side for once I came back after training. Directly opposite the exit was an old writing desk complete with a wooden chair and carvings, in the likeness of a raven of all things, which usually creaked under a fruitful school day’s worth of homework my bovine of a little brother had to deal with.

An old, slightly tattered carpet parted the ground between my brother’s and my beds on the far end of our shared chamber. On each bedstead, our mother´s cousin had attached plates bearing our names (although of course she used the female version for me again, just to rib me a bit). Beneath our nightly resting spots each of us had a trunk containing assorted toys and books to pass the time, if our schedule permitted it.

In the middle of the adjacent wall, just below the currently open window to our verdant backyard we had our low dresser full of socks and other underwear for days both warm and cold. Already a gentle breeze danced across my nose, promising little in the way of weather problems on my way down to the train.

**“**Are you sure about this, Alisi?” my _Mama_ asked for what had to be the hundredth time as she fussed over me. “Going out into the world on your own is really dangerous...”

Before I could tear myself from my already surfacing homesickness, she sighed heavily. “Although I´d have been fooling myself if I hadn't waited for this day to come, since you and  _ Papa _ started going on those  _ private bonding trips _ into the near  _ Schattenforst  _ every couple of months after your sixth birthday.”

My mind stalling, I blinked a few times, then stuttered. “You… you knew about that the whole time?”

“I am your  _ mother _ , sweetie. And even if I hadn't found out that he showed you a few things about  _ Jäger _ equipment and techniques, my  _ Mama _ always saw through his little white lies. We thought about putting an end to it all because you were too young and he too old, but every time you two came back…”

Here Mama drew a deep breath before composing herself once more. “Those lessons were good for both of you. My little cub, you overcame your shyness and learned so much about the world, while Papa… whenever I saw him then, he seemed to be young again, all of his decades of battle scars long forgotten, with that old Beast called  _ die Jagd _ tamed once more.”

“Oh yeah,” I responded with a fond smile, “ _ Opa _ and I had lots of fun back then… despite me more often than not tripping over some roots and cursing those thick, dark clouds in front of the Moon to go away.”

After that, my nostalgic mood faded quickly. ”But that’s the reason, why I  _ have to do it _ , Mama…” I said, “He poured his heart into teaching me all he could, and just discarding it like some unwanted Yuletide present once no one is looking wouldn’t be right at all. I´m pretty sure Oma Maria would agree with me -oh shit, Mama, I´m sorry! I shouldn’t have brought her up!”

I hastily threw my arms around my mother and hugged her tightly as she started sobbing a bit. Seriously, bringing up the mother that didn't wake up from sleep one day about two weeks after the passing of her beloved  _ Wiggerl _ ? Really should think about starting a counseling career...

Once her bleat-sobs died down again, Mama hugged me back, with her wool just scratching my lower jaw. “It's alright, my little cub… Say, did I ever tell you about how  _ Papa _ came back gravely injured from one of his Hunts and  _ Mama _ went through the  _ Forsts  _ thorn thickets to get  _ Obermedizinalrat _ Bader, despite being at the end of her pregnancy with me and my sister? With love like that, her following him so shortly after did  _ hurt badly _ , but it wasn't surprising at all.”

“I really  _ do _ understand you, Alisi,” Mama continued, “But why do you want to continue  _ Papa’s _ legacy in the Marine Corps of all things? The World Outside is so dangerous and I'm sure that you could achieve great things in the  _ Konterkraft _ , maybe even the  _ Jäger. _ ”

Now it was my turn to guffaw, bereft of any actual joy. “Of course I could go the same way Opa did and maybe I would even have some success with it… But in the end, I will always be measured against what  _ he  _ did… Those are boots far too big for me to fill out. No, in the Marines I have at least the  _ chance _ to live my own story and be judged by what  _ I _ can do, Mama.”

Sighing heavily, Mama conceded. “I really can't change your mind, can I? All right, if it's truly your wish, I'll go get  _ Papa’s _ old trunk… It won't take long, my little cub.” With that, she left me alone in my brother's and my bedroom to take it all in one last time, the clip-clop of her hooves quickly fading into the distance.

There it was; I made my decision to leave the home I´ve known for my whole life to seek my fortune in far-off lands. Already feeling a bit nostalgic, I slowly walked to our combined bookshelf and picked up the first heavy book, the title catching my eyes.  _ Der Geschwister Arg gesammeltes Märchenwerk _ , the fairytale book my parents and maternal grandparents used to read to both me and my brother Ferdinand. At first, they stuck to the child-friendly versions full of happy endings, but after  _ Opa  _ died _ ,  _ I took a look at the second half with the…  _ less-than-idealistic _ originals.

Suffice to say, parts like _ Rotkäppchen  _ not getting eaten  _ whole  _ by the wolf left a mark.

“Even though you frightened me more than once,” I said to the old book resting in my hands, “I'm still thankful to you for showing me that all stories have more than one side to them.” Putting it back in its designated shelf place with a last wistful look out of our window into the garden, I exited our bedroom.

What next? Walking across the floor, I went over my usual checklist as I picked up my purse from a cupboard and stuffed it into a trouser pocket. One of my Opa’s old brown leather jackets, retrieved from our coat rack, went on over my green shirt; I plucked “his” flat cap off a shelf and placed it on my head. Then, taking a deep breath, I stepped through kitchen door.

There, on the counter lining the windows opposite of me lay sleeping our hulk of a black cat Siegfried, guarding both the birdcage with our elderly house sparrow Alberich and a bag of food my mom had prepared earlier.

Unfortunately, when I picked up my vittles, a somewhat-high pitched “ _ Mrrrp!”  _ alerted me to Miez, our second cat - and Siegfried’s younger sister - homing in on my provisions from somewhere in our living room.

“No, Miez!” I shouted when our gray-furred glutton of a cat started pawing at my legs to scam me out of some morsels, “That’s  _ my _ food! You’ve got your own food bowl back in the living room!”

_ “Mrraaaaawh?” _

Sighing fondly, I turned back to Siegfried. “Not you,  _ Siggi _ , go back to sleep.” To Alberich's great annoyance however, his feline friend instead looked at me with his yellow eyes (the right one speckled brown), rose with a leisurely  _ Mrraaaaawh… _ and after some stretching started munched on one of the bread slices we regularly stuck between the cage bars for the bird to peck away at. When our feathered singer rightfully complained about this petty larceny of food, the large cat lazily swiped at the cage once with a resounding clang, upon which the protest died down.

Food bag raised over my head to deny Miez any access and smiling at the actually harmless antics of our two other pets, I stepped out of the kitchen just as _Mama_ came down the stairs from our attic again, pulling Opa´s trunk down the stairs after her. 

“Just in time, Mama,” I sighed with relief while trying to shoo away the offending cat with my foot. “Miez was getting rather interested in my food.”

Gently thrusting the cart´s handle into my waiting hand, Mama huffed. “Miez! How often do we have to tell you that you shouldn't beg for food? Shoo! Off you go, you little firebrand!”

After our feline wisely decided to heed her mistress´call, my mom turned to me next. “Just go ahead, my little cub. I´ll make sure that she stays put for the moment, then I´m coming down as well; after all, the  _ Brunner _ twins should arrive soon and our family does need some drinkables again.”

Sure enough, as soon as I had descended the stone stairs towards the door to our front yard, our brazen doorbell sounded. Hans and Franz Brunner, the local drink vendors, were waiting behind the wood-framed glass door.

“So, your big moving day finally arrived, Aloys?” one of the brothers asked with a smile. I never could tell who was who, despite usually having no such troubles with my mother and her sister, Aunt Kreszenzia. His twin then added, “Just wait until we've done business with your family and we can drive you to the train station”.

Since the two often enough picked me up on my way home from school over the years and my family always had a friendly business relationship with them, I agreed. I had barely leaned against our wooden fence to wait when my mom stepped out of the house, hooves clopping against the doorstep. After goods and money changed hands — with the Brunners trying in vain to fool Mama into thinking that one was in fact the other — I climbed on top of the yellow coach´s box with practiced ease and sat between the brothers as we departed my home, waving my crying mother goodbye for now.

Following an uneventful ride, the Brunner twins and I arrived with their coach in front of Sonndorf’s admittedly a bit small and rundown train station. Once I dismounted the box with my belongings in hand, the twins wished me good luck and returned to their shop further in town, leaving me to my own devices.

For its proportions busy, our railway terminus was a long one-story building with an ochre-plastered facade and a greying wood roof, sporting a high central chimney. A sturdy-looking, waist-high metal fence with a small gate in front of the building´s main door ran along the track to render any storm to the train at least somewhat civilized. 

Walking towards the slightly elevated main door with the fence to my right, I took notice of the itinerary and found myself groaning at the proclamation next to it. 

Apparently the shorter route south of the Blue Mountains separating Sonndorf and the capital of Grien, among many other things that had a singular switch in Zicklingen, had been closed down for renovations, leaving me only the much longer route through Sommerdamm, Wasserbünde, and Steinchencröe before I had to change trains in Uschtenheim all the way up at the Northern coast.

_Great_, I groused a bit in my mind,_ that's all across the country… Just typical for the _**_Eisenpfeil_**_ lines. At least they are selling that ticket only slightly more expensive as a concession, if I understood that announcement right_. A quick check of my purse confirmed that yes, I had brought more than enough money for it _just in case_.

Entering the main room, I quickly made a beeline for the ticket booth while the gatekeeper passed me by among other people. 

“Well, well,” the old and greying counter clerk chortled softly upon seeing me, “Aren't you one of those  _ Flinks  _ from up the hill? What drives you to this fine train station, my boy?”

Honestly, I didn't mind that misnomer at all, since I was a rather fleet-footed fellow in general. Plus, according to Opa Ludovigs brother Georg, that particular clerk might have been a bit of a drunkard and a  _ sly dog,  _ but not actually a bad person by half _ .  _ Still, I answered a bit shyly. “Um, it's  _ Minks _ , sir. And I'd like to buy a one-way ticket to Grien Central Station… Second class, please”

“Oh, my bad about that… The old thinking-noodle doesn't want to work that good anymore,” the clerk said, smiling as he operated the ticket-printer. “Why are you travelling all the way to Grien, my boy?”   
  
“To make my family proud and to protect the innocent,” I responded proudly, before deflating a bit. “Besides, someone has to  _ pay the tithe _ every now and then…”

With that, the man´s chipper face fell just a bit before quickly reforming again. “Paying the tithe” unfortunately was an all-too real necessity to keep the World Government placated. While Purusia was a nation independent from Mariejoa and the Gorosei seemed to appreciate our army’s part in pacifying the North Blue, in general they seemed to like things under their thumb alone, according to what news reached us through our national newspaper  _ Die Verteidigung _ . While the World Government probably could conquer Purusia if they truly desired, doing so would throw the entire Blue into chaos. Recognising this, high-ranking Marine officials and our King  _ Arminius IX _ decided on a treaty: They leave us be, free to live our lives unhindered and in return Purusia allowed them to open an embassy and a Marine Recruitment Bureau in our capital to “combine each other's strengths for the betterment of all,” as the Marines phrased it so  _ charmingly _ . Of course, most Purusians suspected it to be merely an attempt to slowly integrate us into the World Government, but because we hated going back on an agreement without a really good reason, we viewed it as a necessary evil to keep the peace.

Having composed himself from that reminder of our difficult situation with the World at large, the clerk handed me my ticket, took my money, and smiled. “Here you go, my boy. Your train should arrive-”   
  
****

**-TWEEEET!-**

“...-any moment now,” he added a bit sheepishly.   
  
Hastily stuffing everything away and thanking the man, I grabbed my assorted baggage and ran towards the track, where the gatekeeper was already herding everyone into the train.   
  
“All aboard the line  _ Sonndorf-Uschtenheim _ , with stops in Sommerdamm, Wasserbünde, and Steinchencröe! Please mind the gap!” he shouted.

With my rather sensitive ears still ringing a bit from that whistle, I boarded the train and quickly found a compartment for my baggage before seating myself in one nearby. Shortly after that, the train whistled one final time and departed my hometown. I had only ever left a few times before, when we paid a visit to my father's side of the family.

_ So, that's it, huh? _ I thought to myself, lowering my flat cap and preparing to nap for a bit,  _ I´m actually going through with it, despite everything that could go wrong? Actually a nice feeling, finally taking a gamble for once… _

**End of Chapter I**


	2. Chapter 2 - ...in die weite Welt hinein

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-zM2Xk3Mdms

Only a few minutes into my nap, I awoke to a strange tugging sensation at my lower lip. I 

grumbled a bit at this annoyance, showing some teeth and opening my eyes. Then I saw the reason for it.

On the seats opposite to me sat a little brunette girl with some fear in her green eyes, wearing a red cloak one size too big.

“My word, Mister, what big teeth you have,” she said after a moment.

Chuckling quietly at how thematic the situation had become all of a sudden, I replied. “The better to smile broadly at you, my dear. Although actually, a doggo baring its teeth at you normally means that it doesn't really like how things are going, you know?” A nod from her showed me that my advice would be taken to heart in the future. _Good_, I thought to myself, _that way the little one won't get hurt just because_ _she mistakenly thought my mien_

_ applied to normal dogs as well _ .

After that, I leaned towards her a bit and asked, “What's your name, my dear? And what are you doing here, all on your lonesome?“ 

“Um, sorry, but  _ Mama _ said I shouldn't talk to strangers,” she replied while shyly fidgeting with her cloak. “I was supposed to wait for my mommy to buy us something from the food wagon… but I got bored and wandered off.” 

Thinking a bit, I said smiling, “Well, little one,  _ my name  _ is Aloys. And since I am now no stranger to you anymore, how about the two of us go looking for your mom? Wouldn't want her worry herself sick possibly, would we?”

After her nodding a bit anxiously and me leaving my coat behind to reserve my seat, I found myself taking her by hand, so that the two of us would not get separated on our way to find the little one´s mother. 

Pushing through other people blocking the hallways, we finally found the little one´s mother.   
  


“ _ Reglinde Kasteyn! _ There you are, young lady… running off and worrying your mother like that.”   
  
...Or rather, the little one´s mother found  _ us _ , but at least the family was together again, easing my worries that bad things might have ended up happening.

Standing a bit aside, I watched with a fond smile, as little Reglinde got caught into a bear hug by her mother, who was carrying a woven basket containing some assorted food items in one hand.

“What were you thinking, Missy? Running off like that on our train trip to bring Grandma some groceries from home… She can't really go out on her own anymore, you know?” Turning to me, Mrs. Kasteyn added, “And who is that  _ Wesen _ that came with you?”

Ah yes,  _ Wesen _ . One specifically Purusian word for Minks ( _ Tiermenschen _ being another one, with  _ Biestmenschen _ as a far less polite version) that I didn't really mind either - after all, it simply described us as another type of living being. That being said, it never really caught on with most people; neither did  _ Die Argen _ as an alternative term for the  _ Jäger _ -Corps that doubled as a nod towards some of our most prolific authors…

Clearing my throat, I made a step towards Reglinde’s mother and extended my right hand, while saying, “Good morning, madam. My name is Aloys Gleester and I found your daughter wandering around, being all curious about the world. Because I didn't want her to get lost, I decided to escort her back to you.”

“Thank you very much, young man,” she responded while taking my hand and shaking it, careful not to get accidentally get scratched by my claws. “No matter where we go, I simply can't take of my eyes off my little daughter here without her getting into the wildest of situations. Why, to me it seems like just yesterday she was at her fifth birthday…”

“Not fair, Mother,” Reglinde started whining to keep her mom from unveiling any “dark” and embarrassing secret better left forgotten to the world at large. “I am not five anymore.”

Smiling a fondly exasperated smile, Mrs. Kasteyn said, “Indeed you aren´t, sweetie, but  _ seven years old _ isn't that much better in terms of looking out for yourself. Straying too much from the path can be dangerous in this day and age, after all, and if that young man hadn't found you…”

“I am pretty sure, madam,” I interrupted her with an apologetic smile, “that come the time, your daughter will be able to look after herself. Besides, if we never test our boundaries, how can we know them in the first place? And even if she gets into trouble, there will always be those looking after her to help her in the end. ”

The mother looked the slightest bit displeased about my intrusion when replying. “Rest assured, young man, that  _ when the time comes _ Reglinde will be ready to face the world. Right now, though, she still needs supervision in that particular matter. Thank you for returning her to me regardless… Good day.”

Bidding them both adieu, I returned to my compartment and sat down while looking out of the window to discern where I was at the moment. 

In the distance behind the train, the last remnants of the forest north of Sonndorf were being swallowed up by the gentle hills beneath the tracks, making me sigh. All those trips amidst the trees with Opa Ludovig where he showed me all I needed to achieve my dream… Lessons on how to survive in the wild, exercises with his old recruit weapons  _ Loreley  _ and  _ Tapferes Schneiderlein _ , showing me some tricks with his Devil Fruit, self-defense, and of course teaching me how to deal with the “affliction” all Minks had to face under the pale moonlight. While I never regretted any of what happened back then (in fact, I enjoyed it very much), I still wondered if it would be enough to last me until proper Marine training.

Deep in those thoughts, I almost didn't notice a huge building come into view, one that was infamous throughout all of Purusia for one simple reason.

Opulent and imperial, the venerable Wolkenheim Estate had been gazing proudly from its stoic perch above the moor since before the great Mink Immigration into Purusia almost hundred years ago, when it belonged to an esteemed if eccentric foreign noble. Unfortunately, ruin would come to his family in the form of ever-increasing debauchery. In the beginning, his banquets turned into orgies in all but name. Then, he immersed himself in singular, unsettling tales told to him by his guests that suggested the existence of otherworldly things sleeping somewhere on the Grand Line. After that, people started going missing around his property, forcing a small unit of the Purusian army along with some mercenaries to apprehend the man now colloquially known as  _ Ambrose the Depraved. _

Opa Ludovig never really told anyone what happened that longest day aside from the mercenaries´captain giving his life and the maddened Lord rambling about a “Bleak Empire” felling the cities of Man, should it ever rise again. After that, my grandpa settled down in Sonndorf to safeguard the people against anything that they might have overlooked within this forsaken estate. Even today, decades after that raid, no one had ever dared to claim this festering abomination of a noble´s residence, and so it crumbled slowly into disrepair.

_ Oh well _ , I sighed mentally while once again preparing to nap for a bit,  _ as nice it looks on that hill, who in their right mind would ever move in there? It could get demolished and nothing of value would be lost anyway… _

_ -.. .- -- -. .. - --..-- / .. / -. . ...- . .-. / ... .... --- ..- .-.. -.. / .... .- ...- . / .-.. .. ... - . -. . -.. / - --- / - .... .- - / .- .-. .-. --- --. .- -. - / -... .- ... - .- .-. -.. _

After a refreshing nap with no further disruptions by adorable little girls being curious, I awoke to a shrill train whistle signalling our arrival at the port city of Uschtenheim

\- .... . -. / .- --. .- .. -. --..-- / .. - / .. ... / -- -.-- / --- -. .-.. -.-- / .... --- .--. . / --- ..-. / . ... -.-. .- .--. .. -. --. / ..-. .-. --- -- / - .... .. ... / -. --- - -....- .--. .-.. .- -.-.

  
  


[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m0767ZhplPM ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m0767ZhplPM)

Having retrieved my belongings from the baggage compartment, I stepped out of the train and drank in the sight before me.

Blocky yet imposing, the large white railway building sported sections that were four stories high in the middle and at the sides, while the parts connecting them measured only three quarters their height. Many smoking chimneys pierced the shallow sloped roofs, with the sturdy-looking walls completely covered in large shutter-sporting windows. Above my head, a whole array of one story high roofs spread out in front of the house, providing shelter against any rain or snow that might have otherwise plagued the travellers bustling around underneath.

The slightest hint of a salty breeze wafted around my muzzle when I went down the right-side stairs tunneling under the rails to access plattform Nr. 5, where my train to Grien would be arriving shortly.

As soon I stepped into the tunnel below the rails and my senses had adjusted to the different surroundings, I sighed wearily at what I saw. Blocking my way to the train, three ragged-looking thugs were cornering a slightly swaying Common Bream Fishman wearing a tattered, dark blue captain's uniform, while the tunnel around them remained conspicuously bare of other people.

“C´mon, you anklebiters,” the fishman slurred while holding a beer bottle in one hand. “Leave an old sea dog be… Been longer at sea than you three were alive, you know? Got the tattoos to prove it, too.”

Slowly inching closer, I could hear the apparent leader - an overweight, bald guy with a greasy, yellow-stained mess of a beard - guffaw dirtily.

With the distinctive drawl of an  _ Ostlander,  _ he snuffled. “Sure thing, you overgrown guppy. But with inhuman scum like you `manning´ the  _ Konterkraft _ ´ _ s  _ operations, it's no wonder that pirates have been getting all uppity as of lately. Heck, our great nation started going downhill the moment that excuse for a King´s grandfather let those flea-bitten mongrels called `Minks´ settle on our land, and now we have you tunaheads play at being human as well.”

I couldn't help but facepalm at how stereotypically  _ Ostland _ that idiot was being. After the eastern peninsula had been hit particularly hard by that plague almost a century ago - partly because it consisted largely of marshlands and smokestacks - its inhabitants had grown rather paranoid about outsiders further destroying their way of life while simultaneously screaming at the government to `get off their lazy asses and fix things,´ preferably by deporting all non-humans, who they suspected of deliberately starting it all to weaken Purusia from within. Of course, Ostlander liked to forget that Minks only arrived once the sickness had already been largely exterminated and that one of Purusias greatest heroes was a Mink as well.

Then again, those were minor details to such “great and self-sufficient minds,” so who was paying attention in the end?

Unheeding of my slow and cautious approach, the moron continued. “Our nation should have woken up to the plot you and your beastly masters were spinning to bring us down almost hundred fucking years ago, damnit. What about that one mongrel killing one of our nobles, stealing his rightful powers and letting himself be celebrated as a hero for for the whole mess getting the World Government's attention? If that idiot had messed up his murder even a little bit more, those old farts in Mary Joa would have had their goons annex us `for our own damn good.´ But no, instead of that flea-bitten bastard being dragged in front of a court for killing a legitimate noble of Purusia, they laud him as a hero, make him one of the strongest Jäger ever and let him spawn offspring in peace, until he supposedly finally keels over dead a few years ago… Bullshit like that happens, if we let filth like you run wild and unchecked.”

An echoing  _ thud _ sounded throughout the tunnel when the trunk cart left my slackening grip.   
  
“Please excuse me,” I said while forcing myself to remain outwardly calm at that bastard desecrating my grandpa’s memory, “but I think I misheard you… What were you saying about Grampa Ludovig again?”

_ Do not let them see that they got to you even the tiniest bit, Aloys - those assholes don’t deserve even that much recognition. _

Facing me and crossing his chain-wrapped arms, the leader snarled. “Well lookie here, seems like the foreigner-controlled press decided to print the truth for once - that beast  _ did _ end up banging some bitch and now we have even more of those mongrels stinking up our nation. Time to set things right again and put this mangy pooch on a fucking leash!”

Only seeing a flicker of metal before my eyes, I felt my body reacting.

“What the unholy fuck? Did that flea-bitten cur actually **_fetch_** your damn chain?” one of the other two assholes exclaimed incredulously while fumbling to draw a knife out of one of his greasy jacket´s pockets. After regaining my bearings and looking at the offending metalwork that had wrapped itself around my arms that I had raised reflexively to shield my face, I spoke in a deceptively baffled voice.  
  
“Looks like I did indeed…”  
  
Next, I turned my gaze to the leader again with the single-most pointy and wide smile I could muster before tapping into one of two exceptionally powerful weapons all Minks possess.

** _“Shocking, isn´t?”_ **

Now, when other people see a Mink creating electricity from their person, most think that our fur can generate a lot of static charges. They´re only half right, though. While it is true that normal Minks have to do things like rubbing their fur against clothes to over time get enough electricity stored in order to zap someone unconscious for example, after mastering a certain aspect of our nature, a long-since dormant electricity-generating organ that dates back back to our more primitive past becomes active again and “bleeds over” into our normal form, so to speak. Once that happens, we can freely create electricity even without rubbing ourselves against everything first, although not as strong as we would be able to during our… other state.   
  
A state that, while Opa Ludovig had seen to helping me harness it safely, I dearly hoped I would never need to use. After all, the mere idea of me hurting or even killing those close to me sickened me to my core, especially since I should be able to avoid it altogether...   
  


In the time it took me to breathe once, an electrical current built up deep within my body and surged literally lightning-fast through the chain binding me to the Leader Asshole into its unfortunate owner, fittingly enough causing him to squeal like a wounded boar before he dropped unconscious.

“You goddamn bastard!” the finally-knife-wielding goon yelled furiously, “I'll skin ya alive and use your damn hide as welcoming mat for my shitter!” Before he and their silent partner could act on that pretty imaginative threat, however, an all-but-forgotten and rather fishy captain reentered the fray by slapping the knife-wielder so hard the man spun around half circle, following up with another blow that launched the knife out of its owner's hand. For a moment, all eyes were on the knife as it spun in the air, before dropping back down to pierce all the way through its owner's foot.

"Gah! Fuck!" Hopping on his uninjured foot, the goon made a futile attempt to halt the bleeding without pulling his knife free - which might have made things worse anyway, if I remember Grampa’s lessons in First Aid correctly. "That fucking burns, you anchovy bastard!"

"It's supposed to, you know?" the fishman said without the slightest bit of slur or stagger, frowning slightly. After that he turned his head in my direction.   
  
“Would you mind getting outta the way a bit,  _ mien jung _ ? I'd rather not hit you by accident. _ ” _ __   
_   
_ Just as I all-but-jumped to the side with my cart - which I had found the time to pick up again during the Fishman´s little show - he pulled his arm back and unleashed a punch that seemed to do  __ something to not just the hopping knife-wielder, but to all three goons. Their skin and even the very air rippled like water as they were thrown to the ground. The three lay there, seemingly unconscious, occasionally letting out weak groans of pain.

Slack-jawed and buggy-eyed, I simply stood there for a few moments, not able to believe what I had just seen. That Fishman didn't even land his last punch on any of those idiots and they still got punted to the ground like they were nothing. Turning my head to him, I asked, confused:   
  
“Wha… How did you do that? I´ve never seen anyone doing something like that.”   
  
“That rusty old punch, you mean?” he replied while rolling his shoulder with some audible popping. “Just part of Fishman Karate, a martial arts pretty much anyone can learn, mien jung. You basically use the water around you to help you with your attacks. Heck, any liquid that´s at least half water works just fine. Nothing special at all, unlike your little lightning trick there. Name´s Kaleun Jürgen-Jürgen Brassmann, by the way.” 

Chortling inwardly at the Kaleuns all-too-fitting family name, I shook my head and said: 

“Aloys Gleester, sir… Oh, and my Electro isn´t special at all - just us Minks storing energy from rubbing our fur against stuff and releasing it at will - everyone of us can do that, but I never really used it before.”

“Is that so?” Käpt´n Brassman asked while scratching his greying full beard in thought. “So, if you don't mind an old sea dog being nosy, what brings a grandson of Old Blood Ludovig that far North of his home? `Specially with that much tonnage in tow?” A wide, knowing grin soon split his face. “Lemme guess: You wanna take the helm and chart your own course? Well, better you stick to it, no matter the squalls.”

Wondering if I was that easy to read, I nodded. “Yeah, I want to make my grandfather proud by becoming a hero of justice in the Marine Corps”

“That so? For your sake I hope you don't give up a few important tings, chasin´ that dream.” His face falling a bit, the captain sighed and said, “You need to get to Grien for that, right? Well then, let's just leave Glatzmatz and his fellow garden gnomes here to think about what they did and walk to your train together, shall we?”

With a quick nod from me, we set ourselves slowly in motion, with Brassmann in the lead thanks to me dragging my heavy trunk behind. 

Just a few moments later we arrived at my platform to Grien. Here the captain fished a slightly-worn tulipwood pipe out of one breast pocket and, while his back was still turned to me and the sun´s rays in front of us both illuminated his silhouette, he asked:

“Mind if I smoke,  _ mien jong _ ? Could use it right now to burn out some memories I'd rather not have around, you know?”   
  
Biting down the impulse to act like my dad and jokingly responding with “I don't even mind if you burn,” I simply made a noise that meant “no,” causing him to nod and sigh. After exhaling a sizeable smoke ring, the Kaleun spoke again:   
  
“You might think that the world outside is a wondrous place, with clear-cut frontlines between Good and Evil… That you only need to get out there an´ seek the pot o´ gold at the end of the rainbow. Lemme tell ye, that it's not that easy. Out there, the vilest scum o´the earth can hide behind the most  ** _Noble_ ** of masks… I should know.”

Absentmindedly, Käpt´n Brassmann began scratching the space between his shoulder blades before continuing. “Why, I remember it still like it was yesterday - me in my younger years, proud captain of the  _ SMS Schwertfisch _ and spending my shoreleave on some far-off coast. Next thing I know is darkness and suffering with no end in sight to  _ keep me betters an´their world moving _ with the sweat of me own brow… Had to be bailed out again `bout six years ago. Even then, with me old crew taking me in again, the world still wanted to show how wretched it can be. We were just entering this here city´s fine harbour with pomp n´fanfare, when outta the mist some blackguards appeared and opened fire on everything. Sure, they got sent to the Locker soon enough, but not before blasting my fine vessel to Kingdom Come as well. Seein´ all I ever had - crew an’ ship - sink beneath those blackened waves an’ me alone surviving… Still not somethin’ I'd wish on anyone. But don't let an old sea dog frighten you too much, mien jong… Who knows? Maybe you’re gonna be the one makin’ the difference to a better world? Wouldn't be the first time that a young Mink gets pushed to the brink and comes back stronger than ever, amiright?”   
  
Just as I - completely gobsmacked at the story I had just heard - wanted to respond, my train moved in beside me, causing me to clap my hands over my ears to avoid getting my hearing assaulted again by the shrill whistling.   
  
“I’ll tell you something, young one. Come back here once you´re done becoming a proper Marine - morals an all, of course - come back here to this old captain an’ I´ll show you some tricks like my Karate moves, because I like you lots… How does that sound?”

“Ehm, um... ” I replied oh-so-eloquently. “Wow… Thank you so much, captain. I´ll remember to do so.”   
  
Boarding my train with my trunk in hand, I looked back to Brassmann again, who tipped his hat to me, smiling, and - before the compartment´s doors closed on me - said something that would occupy my mind for many years to come.   
  
“Always remember that this world rests on the backs of lots of normal people and moves by their backbreaking labour… Try to make things better for them, if nothing else, ok?”

**End of Chapter 2**


	3. Chapter 3 - Kein schöner Land...

[ **https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zNlA1_HY-Lg** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zNlA1_HY-Lg)

Watching the countryside zip past my window a while later, I glanced at the pocket watch I inherited from Grandpa - like so many other things - to check the time to my expected arrival.  _ Only five more minutes left according to the schedule I saw back home _ , I deadpanned inwardly.  _ So knowing the Eisenpfeil ́s habit to bung up spectacularly for the most minor of reasons, it´ll probably be about ten to fifteen minutes in reality. _

After pocketing my watch again, I decided to seize the opportunity to have something to eat in order to pass the time, while the comparatively modern train ́s on-board Snail Transmission System filled the air with “Irgendwo auf der Welt” by _Liliane Haraldt und den Harmonischen Komödianten_, a music group I had come to like quite a bit.

Unfortunately, my calm was disturbed by the beautiful song coming to a slow stop before the Transmission Snail broadcasted the operator ́s crackly voice all around the train:

“Dear passengers, we ́ll soon arrive at our next destination: _ Grien Central Station _ . Please exit the right side. All connecting trains will be made on time.”   
  
While the operator repeated the message in the World Government ́s civilian language of Low Oyashimian (with them as usual using the infamously-badly pronounced closing words of “Sänk ju for träwelling vizz ze `Eisenpfeil ́”), I grumbled to myself a bit and went to retrieve my baggage.   
  
_ The one time I could have used a little delay for a snack, the train is on time...goodie… _

Having readied myself for my arrival with my possessions in hand and feeling the train halting completely, I stepped out of the opening doors onto the station platform and drank in the sight presenting itself to me.

All around me, the great train hall of Grien Central Station stretched incredibly wide, with far over a dozen tracks housed beneath the tall roof whose glass plane arrays were supported by

steel arches looking like giant whale rib cages and a huge amount of different people milling around on the ground.

A brisk walk to the upper left of the big hall later, I entered the local government and diplomatic liaison building. Immediately I had to evade officials and customers alike in the narrow floors leading to the World Government ́s recruitment office, including a worker toiling away to push a positively massive and overflowing mail cart labelled “MAIL ACTUALLY INTENDED FOR KINGDOM OF * _ LULUSIA*  _ (smudgy/erroneous address writing) _ ”  _ to its destination.  _ Sure _ , I thought to myself on my way onwards,  _ our two nations ́ names sound rather similar, especially with Oyashimian being all weird about pronunciation and grammar. But seriously - with my home being in the North Blue and Lulusia all the way over in the Grand Line, you ́d think the Mail Coos and transport ships would have caught on by now. _

Ears twitching, I heard a commotion getting louder with every step I took towards my destination, and after stepping through the strangely big door marked “Office of the World Government Liaison - C. Wolfgang”, I was shown the reason for it. 

“The Marine Instructor will be arriving here very soon on their recruitment drive across both the North and West Blue,” a rather short, black-haired man wearing both a long coat version of the white-and-blue uniform befitting his employer and a very unpleasant-looking scowl on his face growled from his desk, “and in the interest of further cooperation between our two organisations I expect your men to be on their best behaviour, Colonel Klemperer… Of course, knowing your usual lackadaisical approach I'd better not do so in order to not get disappointed too much.”

His dialogue partner, a somewhat taller balding man in a standard black Konterkraft uniform with violet highlights and wearing a monocle-with a riding crop of all things tucked between right arm and torso-replied in displeasure with a pronounced Grummelsdorf kind of Ostland dialect.

“Rest assured, Major Caine, my men and me would never deliberately make you look bad by showing any incompetence. In fact, to show you how serious I am taking your concerns, I ordered one of my most competent men to escort the Instructor to this very office on the shortest possible notice.”

Groaning in frustration, the Major buried his face in his hands and sighed. “As long as your  _ best man _ isn't that sorry excuse for a sergeant Banner, this farce of a joint operation might yet be salvageable. Maybe I won’t get shot, court-martialed and then sent to the New World for condoning your incompetence after all.”

Inwardly I chuckled, knowing where this was going already for that choleric wannabe-overlord.

_ It's probably this Banner guy, just to pay you back for always shifting the blame on others, pal. _

“But of course it's my trusted aide Sergeant Banner, Major. After all, I know how high your opinion is of his abilities and indirectly mine as well.”

Both bickering officials were then alerted to my presence by me busting my gut.   
  
_ Totally called that one, I guess. _

The lull of confusion didn ́t last all that long before Mr. Stinker pointed at my  _ explicitly very clothed form  _ with a growl and inquired with an extremly accusatory tone: 

“What is this dog doing here and why are you just allowing it to barge into my office, compromising security in the process, Klemperer? Guarding the perimeter is your damn job, you know?”

Without missing a single beat, Klemperer replied, decidedly miffed. “We don't know what this  _ Mink _ wants, because you haven't given  _ him  _ time to tell us yet. Clearly, simple politeness is not exactly your  _ job _ , Major. Well then, young man,” he added, looking me in the eyes, “state your name and business. Please hurry or our dear Major might throw a hissy fit and we wouldn't want that happening, I hope.”

For a moment I hesitated, nervous about suddenly having gained the undivided attention of two strangers in positions of authority, one of which just so happened to be an arrogant asshole with a pretty short fuse.

“Um, sorry for barging in, sirs,” I managed to mumble out while trying to keep my hands from twiddling around in my face out of anxiety, “but you see, I ́ve come here to...enlist in the World Government ́s Marine corps.”

  
Oberst Klemperer nodded understandingly, but before he could follow up with something, the Major of course had to once more interrupt him with a disbelieving scoff.

“You can't possibly be serious about allowing that scrawny child to enlist into our esteemed corps. Is that how Purusia repays our generosity from a century ago, when we refrained from restoring order in this area of the North Blue by seizing control of your country in the wake of that noble ́s rampage? The contract that finalized our cooperation quite clearly stated that…”

“...the North Blue Kingdom of Purusia has to let the World Government establish an embassy with recruitment office in their capital city of Grien and in return we accept every *able-bodied recruit* turning up and leave the country to their business otherwise… Yeah, I read that damn piece of paper more times than I care to admit, even though I am not old enough to have written it myself, Major Caine,” a new voice announced itself and made us look to the door.

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NWUqQrwaAqk ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NWUqQrwaAqk)

Challenging my idea of what is possible, let alone normal, a giant man around twice my height took up most of the enlarged door frame. He was wearing a very ornate Marine long coat draped over his shoulders like a cape, the light/dark purple combination of both button-down shirt and simple pants struggled to contain an impressively muscled body, while his head featured an equally pronounced jawline and was topped by spiked violet hair.

While I had no idea who that man was, every single one of my dormant Mink instincts was telling me to not cross him under any circumstances, as unusual as his seeming like of that particular colour might be for someone of his position.

Mentally, I added,  _ Not to forget, I can totally understand someone liking that colour thanks to my own preferences. _

“So, boy, you want to become a Marine, right?” the newcomer asked me with a stern look, while crossing his arms the size of small tree trunks and after receiving a hesitant nod, he pushed on, “Well, then tell me the reason why I should take you with me, boy.”

Collecting myself for only a moment, I replied, “ As long as I can remember, my grandpa had told me stories about his career in the Purusian army and the heroic acts he did while he was still alive. I just want to follow in his footsteps and protect the innocents of the world.”

Apparently the strong man sensed that either Oberst Klemperer or the stinker wanted to say something, because with a glance in their direction and a raised hand he silently preventing them from interrupting and nodded in a way meant for me before saying, “Good answer, boy… Grab your belongings and follow me. From now on, I ́ll be overseeing your training personally.”

“But sir,” the sourpuss of a major finally managed to interject, “surely you could choose a better personal disciple than this scrawny, meek boy? He looks as if any normal first-grader could hang him onto their coat hook, with all due respect.”   
  
_ That one never happened _ , I mused,  _ but I did get singed for a bit in ninth grade, because my buddies were trying to smoke back in the locker room after P. E. _

Shooting Major Caine the flattest look I ́ve ever seen, he stated simply, “He is a Mink, with teeth, claws and all the instincts he needs. Even missing a strict training regimen right now, I'd readily take him over a whole squadron of blowhards like you or that Shepard I ́ve been hearing complaints about in Headquarters. Now, if you haven't got any more nitpicks, I'd like to leave now for the recruits ́ new home.”

  
In a very obvious attempt to grovel at the feet of a Marine important enough to gain access to their headquarters on the island of Marineford, Major Caine hastily clicked his heels together and hurried to the door, wanting to open it for the Very Important Marine. Before he could so however, said sturdy piece of Purusian oak slammed into him and sent him onto his posterior. The reason for this soon revealed  itself/himself  as a rather winded-looking man of larger-than-average height and noticeable rotund stature wearing both the uniform of a sergeant and a genuinely upset expression at accidentally having hurt someone.

“What took you so long to get here, Banner? I specifically told you to escort the Marine Instructor here in order to assure his visit and possible drafting of recruits going without any problems,” Oberst Klemperer grumbled without even sparing the fallen liaison trying to get up again a single glance.

Saluting surprisingly snapily, the sergeant replied, “My apologies, Herr Kommandant, but the Instructor insisted on being  _ able to walk those few metres without a personal nanny shadowing his every move _ and told me to get on with my other tasks instead. So I decided to take stock of storage room 12.”

“Finally you are paying attention to my request from weeks ago for a vacant storage opportunity,” Major Hissy-Fit snarled while dusting himself from his involuntary stay on the ground. “Not only that, but I was being being fobbed off with inane prattlings about it having to be  _ either free-standing or self-supporting _ , but that's what I get after trying to use your imprecise mess of a language for once.” 

Before he could continue prattling on about how utterly thankless his duty as diplomatic liaison undoubtedly was, the purple-haired newcomer interjected with an impatient snort, “Sort that out on the way to my ship, since I know that you will insist on mollycoddling me with an escort, Major Caine. Come on, boy, let's get started with your life as a hero of justice,” he added looking at me considerably more softly and with a look in his eyes I couldn't put my fingers on. After me nodding, the five of us finally began to move to my next destination.

Barely after our group left the office in the harbour ́s direction, Oberst Klemperer inquired, “So speak up, Banner, what is being kept in storage room 12 at the moment? As you might be aware, our good major is getting particularly ornery about things proceeding at a more cautious pace than he would like.”

“Milk powder, cartons of eggs, sauerkraut and *good Juvarian beer*, Herr Kommandant!” fellow South Purusian Banner replied, finishing his report with a very big and jolly smile - unfortunately one that the Major just had to wipe off the Feldwebel ́s face in his usual callous way with a barked “Useless, the whole lot! Get rid of it immediately!”   
  


His eyes glimmering with faint hope, the sergeant butted in, “Well, that beer could be stored in my bunk… if no other option presents itself, of course.”

_ And I wouldn't say no to at least some of those eggs, if properly boiled beforehand,  _ my brain supplied unbidden. 

“I don't care how, just give the major what he wants so that we can work on something important, Banner,” the Colonel groaned, obviously annoyed at the whole situation.

Trying to not seem too nosey to the three squabblers, I scooted closer to Mr. Purple-Hair wanting to inquire about things that had started to bug me.

“Excuse me, Sir,” I started more than a little timidly, “but are you sure that I will make the training to become a Marine? I mean, I only led a quiet life at home without any real danger until now.”

_ Disregarding of course my recent run-in with those Ostlande asshats over at Sommerdamm, of course… But that's probably nothing compared to what ́s awaiting me. _

“I just have an eye for seeing potential in young men, boy,” the man answered gruffly, unaware of my thoughts. “Do not think that you are the first tyke who one day set out to change the world after seeing its rottenness - you are not. I meant what I said earlier - Minks are natural warriors, some just need training before they can mess up your day while still shovelling lasagna down their gullet with the other hand. Nevermind, old story… Before I forget - I am Instructor Zephyr.” He stopped any more questions I must have had written on my face.

Our group continued for the next few minutes, plodding through the masses in silence before stepping into the big public elevator along the cliffside Grien had been built on down to the harbour below.

As we descended, behind us one of Purusia’s most notable “buildings”- for lack of a better word - greeted us, just as it had all ocean travellers to and from Grien from miles away for over 200 years.

Hewn into the rock that supported our capital, a humongous carved human skull gaped into the distance, with its lower jaws consisting of a heavy iron portcullis that parted the waves. This grim display of mortality had started construction from already vaguely ghastly-looking rock.

Unfortunately, before I could muse some more about the rich story behind this masterfully-crafted landmark, the elevator we were in came to a halt on the bottom right in front of a very sizeable modern-looking Marine ship I somehow managed to miss entirely during the descent.

Not wanting to spend more time than absolutely necessarily around the Major, who was already beginning to shove me out of the elevator and away from him, I quickly boarded the steam ship directly after Instructor Zephyr.

After some pretty hasty farewells towards us, while departing the sourpuss once more barked at both Klemperer and Banner to “finally get rid of that useless junk cluttering storage room 12,” with the latter nodding solemnly before turning in my direction and grumbling audible enough to hear, “Juvarian beer is useless??”

_ Even despite having hated the taste and smell of beer that one time Grandpa Ludovig´s brother Henrik let me try it out I think calling it “useless” is just culturally dickish _ , I thought while silently shaking my head at the not-so-jolly Sergeant to console him a bit.

A hand landed on my left shoulder, almost making my knees give away under the impact and having me look to the side for the source. 

“That's it, boy… the first moment of your new life,” the instructor said matter-of-factly, “Now go down below deck for preliminary medical examination and after that let yourself be handed out a fitting set of recruit uniform. The travel to proper training grounds will take more than a week, so you´ll be having plenty of time to get familiar with your future comrades. Since you haven't got any proper training yet, we can still take it a bit easy, but if anything really bad happens en route, I expect all hands on deck to follow my orders, understood?”

Quickly, I saluted as sharply as I could going from Grandpas wartime stories - hoping that I didn't fuck up things too much already - and after being dismissed made my way into the ship´s less illuminated belly. 

Luckily, the ship ́s lower decks were surprisingly well-signposted compared to what my father had told me about the average Purusian bureaucratic agencies, and after some weaving through the assorted Marine soldiers, I reached the medical examination office. In it, behind a heavy-looking wooden desk two men in medical garb were flipping through some filing cabinets before immediately becoming aware of my presence.

“What is this?” the more boney and tall of the two questioned, “Another new recruit to be screened? Very well… Please disrobe so that I can start the examination while Mr. Cortums will b taking notes.” With this, he pulled tight medical gloves over his hands and let them snap back audibly, while his more short and saggy compatriot nodded briskly and hurried to get a clipboard.

A heavy lump formed within my throat at hearing this while I already hesitantly did as asked starting with my jacket and shirt. Admittedly, I ́d had always some hangups at being seen too sparsely clothed, let alone naked. Even back at the shower rooms after P. E. I tried getting through the whole ordeal as quickly and unribbed as possible, because I never felt comfortable about my body for various reasons.

_ Don't worry, Aloys - it's simply a quite literally clinical examination and not something even remotely suggestive. The Doctor is simply doing his job and you knew it would happen _ .

Barely having laid my chest bare, my body was already getting prodded and probed, with the doctor humming one way or another the whole time.

  
  


“Name, birthday and last place of residence? We need to know things like that in order for better identification and proper condolence service by the World Government in the event of your unfortunate demise… A simple formality, I assure you,” he added in response to my worried eyebrow-raising. After giving him the needed date, the doctor frowned. “Pretty skinny for a fifteen year old, unfortunately… but other that, vitals seem to be within workable parameters. So in effect we have a 1.63m tall teenage male wolf Mink with yellow-green eyes, dark grey main fur with lighter coloration in various areas as well as a black discoloration resembling a toothbrush moustache at the appropriate position in the way of visual identification aids. As for specific vital signs of the upper body…”

Tuning out the ensuing avalanche of medical terminology and only following instructions, I mulled over the fact that my hopefully future employer seemed awfully certain about me probably not making it for that long. Then again, even sheltered as I might have grown up, I had heard about the never-ending war against criminals, pirates and the rising threat that was the Revolutionary Army the World Government has been fighting and seemingly holding things together less and less for a while now. Still, as some wise man once said,  _ If we don't believe in things that aren't true, how can they ever become true in the first place? _

Steeling myself with rousing thoughts like that, I refocused my attention just in time for the physician to snap his fingers close to my ears and making them twitch instinctively in response.

“Hearing works within acceptable range as well. That concludes the examination of your upper body. Now please take off your pants, so that we can proceed with the lower areas. Don't be shy - it's nothing we haven't seen before.”   
  


_ Somehow I heavily doubt that, given that I am a Mink _ , I couldn't help but thinking while doing as I was told.

After I dutifully discarded even the last scraps of clothing shielding my naked body from attention both unwanted and unwarranted, I steeled myself for the one part of a medical examination for joining the army I dreaded the most - and not a moment too soon, because an ice-cold sensation at a rather sensitive body part made me suck in a very sharp breath and cough a bit.

The doctor made a contemplating sound, while he kneaded some more in search for any worrying irregularities and I hoped dearly that the embarrassment of this unfortunately needed procedure won't last much longer, let alone get worse in the event of my body reacting inappropriately. Luckily, my silent pleas were heard with me being told to dress myself again.

“Well, while that outwards-facing malposition of your feet isn't exactly ideal, it's ultimately nothing damning that would prevent you from entering the Marines. All in all, everything is looking just as expected, especially considering your humanoid subspecies. Did you write everything down, Mr. Cortums?” the doctor added to his until-now-silent companion.   
  
“Yes, Dr. Buscaul.”

With a nod and smile, he told me, “In that case, congratulations to your temporary admission to the World Government ́s Marine Corps, young man. Please proceed to the quartermaster's office along the painted line, get your cadet's uniform and get yourself acquainted with your fellow recruits on the way to our destination”

Hurrying along the designated path to escape from this very uncomfortable but necessary experience, I quickly managed to snag a size S norm-type uniform for myself at the quartermaster's office and after clothing myself in a very fortuitously-placed row of changing cabinets, I entered the storeroom en route to the recruit accommodations.

Soon enough, soft guitar sounds reached my ears with a kind, young-sounding voice chiming in to accompany it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ctA4rs2Iyt8

“Well, everyone knows Juanita

Her eyes each a different color

Her teeth stick out and her chin goes in

And her…-knuckles-, they drag on the floor”, 

Here the singer stopped for a bit, as if he were uncomfortable with how the lyrics actually went. Sure enough, another grumbly voice butted in, rather annoyed. “Hey, I don't think those are the words.”

“You're right, amigo, but it's a bit of a sensitive audience”, the first voice responded. Raising an eyebrow at this in thought that I might have been heard approaching, I turned around the last corner to the sounds ́ source.

Illuminated by a petrol lantern that swayed with the waves rocking the ship more gently than I could have expected, three people were sitting in a circle on some low crates. The one currently plucking gently at the strings of the guitar in his lap wore an unassuming purple vest over a white shirt and brown pants with similarly colored suspenders and a worn yellowish straw hat with a (hopefully) fake cactus of all things in the middle. To his left (which amounted to my right in return) a genuine block of a guy in a recruit ́s uniform with spiked magenta hair hummed along to the song ́s tune through bulbous lips, while on the guitarist's other side a girl-or maybe young woman-in a similar attire with neat dark blue hair listened silently, giving him a bit of a stink eye during it all.

_ Guess now I know what he meant by “sensitive audience,” _ I chuckled inwardly. Unaware of my approach, the singer came to a close.

“Her hair is like a briar

She stands in a bow-legged stance

And if I weren't so ugly, she'd possibly give me a chance…”

The merry band of Marines-to-be were woken from their mental lull of camaraderie by me clapping my hands rather eagerly at such a pleasing show of talent, finally becoming aware of their eavesdropper.

“You ́re really not bad a singer, *Kumpel*,” I said with a smile on my face, trying desperately to neither wag my tail nor have my tongue loll out as an instinctual reaction to my happiness.

With a gold-toothed grin and interestingly-accented Low Oyashiman, the general day-to-day language of the wider world, the jolly musician replied, “And you, compadré, are really not bad in sneaking. I am Virare Hector, from the great Kingdom of Shishano and those fine fellows....”

“...are perfectly able to introduce themselves, mister… We are not that sensitive, after all.” The girl cut him off brusquely - which made Hector chuckle a bit sheepish - before turning her attention back to me with a kind smile that unfortunately soon withered again. “My name is Ain and this is my adoptive brother Bins, both from the Kingdom of Tarkov… or rather, what is left of it thanks to its economy collapsing.”

My ears flattened against my head and a soft whine managed to sneak past my conscious control as I struggled with how to offer my sympathy.

“Shit, I am so sorry for you both. If there is anything I can help you with…” I started apologizing while twiddling with my fingers nervously, only for Ain to smile lovely once more and shake her head.

”Don't worry about it, you had nothing to do with it… Still, it’s nice of you to care for someone you just met. Are you the new arrival from Purusia we've already been hearing about?”

After I nodded, Bins finally broke his silence with a raised eyebrow, “Well, you mind explaining a few things to us in that case? Like, what's the deal with that huge skull carved into the cliff or those two big-ass statues at the gulf ́s mouth a bit back? And most of all, what is a Mink like you doing, living so far outside the Grand Line?”

Chuckling a bit of my own, I responded, “Three questions in one go? Well, seems like you three got yourself a history lesson. But would it be alright, if we wait with that until we've passed those  _ big-ass statues, _ as you said? Because all those things are connected with each other a bit and I'd rather do it all in one… plus, I think I need to take care of my luggage first.”

“No problemo, amigo, just take your time and lay down a bit until we ́re there.”

Nodding, I watched three people I could see myself becoming friends with depart and mused about how to best approach the task-and more importantly, life-before me.

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**End of Act One** ****  
**“Hic Purusia, hic salta”** ****  
**  
** **Next: Act Two**

**“Sic transit gloria mundorum”**

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End file.
